Skis
by EnglandsSunset
Summary: Norwegian Lukas Bondevik is probably the world's best Under-18 Skier, quickly followed by his brother, Emil. Ever since he was seven, he's been 'married' to the slopes. Now, 10 years later, his father sends them to Denmark. After a strange incident occurs there, his view on life, and life in general are going to completely change, for better or for worse. Contains DenNor and SuFin.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia or its Characters. Hetalia, Norway, Iceland, Finland, Sweden, England and Romania are copyrighted to Hidekaz Himaruya. Plotline, Lukas and Emil's Father and Instructor, 'Norway' and 'Denmark' are owned by me. Norway and Denmark (The Countries) are owned by the people.**

* * *

**CURRENT DAY- 19th FEBRUARY**

_"And now, please attach your seatbelts as we slowly descend into Copenhagen, Denmark."_

I fluttered my eyes open from my daze to the scratchy electronic woman's voice. Covering my mouth slightly in a yawn, I looked first at my father, head down in a book, then to my younger half-brother, Emil. He seemed to be focused on something out of the plane window, I think it was a flock of birds passing by or something like that. I was going to turn around and not bother him, but he turned around himself.

"You really don't want to go to Denmark, do you?"

"We were fine in Norway, fuck Denmark."

"Lukas, stop being so problematic." Father said, not moving his head from the book.

"Well, did Emil or I get a say in this? Of course not. I loved Norway, it was where I was born and grew up. I was starting a career, but you just go and move us without letting us have a say in this. I'm moving back as soon as I hit eighteen, and I'm taking Emil with me."

"Lukas, stop bringing an image to yourself!" He hissed back, his light blue eyes flashing with anger. "You won't do such thing!"

"I'm a fully grown adult in the space of three months today, so you have nothing to do with me then because I'll be a legal adult. It's not as if you do anything now anyway." I muttered, drawing _my_ attention to one of the magazine's in the rack on the back of the chair in front. Emil turned back to the window, a 'Why Me' expression on his face, while father flipped another page in his book- almost tearing it from the binding- eyebrows burrowed in frustration.

It was true, neither me nor Emil got a say in moving to Denmark, he just came up to us and said 'We're moving'. That was less than a week ago, just after a skiing competition. Both Emil and I did it as a competitive sport, I'd done it since I was seven, he'd started just after. Due to being two years to his senior and having a year's more training, I usually won by just a couple of seconds, if that.

_"And now, coming around the final turning, both Lukas Bondevik and Emil Steilsson are coming in, obviously both trying to beat their half-brother. Haha, have you got anything to add onto that, Berwald?"_

_"Hmm."_

_"Stop being so antisocial while we're commentating!" _Tino had been a good friend of mine since we had first met. His Uncle was actually close friends with mine and Emil's trainer, so we both met at the slopes, just after he moved from Helsinki. We then started at the same school once we hit eleven, so we had gotten to know each other a lot more than we had originally. Berwald had come along once we were around fifteen, having just moved from Stockholm. He usually scared people by just _looking_ at them, but the two of us actually got on- well, when he actually spoke. _"You know you could get sacked! It's only a part-time job, I know, but I still want to keep it until we get a full-time one!"_

I could help but chuckle as Tino kept trying to get Berwald to say something, but to no avail. It had been like this since Berwald had started at our school. In the two and a half years we had known each other, he had probably said one hundred words that were willingly said and not forced (like being asked a question). Actually, 'Hmm' (Now, this is going to be classed as a word to make Berwald look slightly better) and the odd 'Hallo' were probably the only ones, taking them off left nothing.

However, I still kept my concentration on Emil. I could hear his pants just behind me, so I quickly sped up and crossed 0.3 seconds ahead of him.

_"Sorry about the *cough* incident *cough* everyone! So, Lukas Bondevik from Norway comes in first with his half-brother Emil in a _very_ close second! And following them up is Nikolai_

_ Arlovskaya from Belarus who will be taking bronze home with him. Now the leading trio have finished, let's go back and see how some of their other fellow Skiers are doing! "_

Slowly skidding to a halt, I used this as a chance to catch my breath. Emil slowed down afterwards, and eventually stopped, near enough leaning against my shoulder. Sliding my now snow-covered goggles firmly attached to my face, I slowed my breathing and high-fived him softly.

"Beat you."

"There's always next time." Emil said, shrugging his shoulders. As his older brother, I knew he was irritated because I had. Anyway, he always said that, so I wasn't really bothered.

As Nikolai finished, and our instructor congratulated us, the two of us went into the changing rooms to shed the snow covered clothing.

"Поздравления." (Congratulations) Nikolai came in, pulling off the damp clothing wrapped around him.

"Takk, til deg også." (Thanks, to you too) I replied. Emil smiled softly but said nothing, until:

"Sorry, Nikolai, I'm not trying to pry or anything, but why are you wearing breast-pads? I'd understand a bit more for Biathlon but…"

"Emil, it's his choice whether he wears them! Or is it just Belarusian Uniform?" Now I _knew _why Nikolai wore breast pads, he knew I knew too. Either Emil was as thick as a brick or some snow got in his eyes.

I swear I heard him mutter 'Fuck, someone found out' into his snow jacket, before shaking his head. "Learn the difference between real and fake breasts, Steilsson. It'll help you get a girlfriend. Bondevik, shut your fucking mouth."

"Wait, what?!"

"Someone's only just realised I was female _other _than the pervert Bondevik? God, men are even more stupid then I first thought."

"I'm not a pervert, I'm just smarter than the average man."I smiled to myself slightly.

"But this is the _Men's_ 15km. The Women's is tomorrow." Gott, Emil.

"They're too freaking slow I always end up way too far ahead, so I said I had a twin brother and then started doing the Men's. At least I have fucking competition then. Anyway, the name's _Natalya _Arlovskaya, if you care. Well, even if you don't, don't forget it because I'll be getting the Gold next time, you'll just have to settle with Silver and Bronze. Now, stop harassing me and let me go and find _big brother~_" And with that, she managed to get into the Female Changing Room and the room was quiet again.

Emil gave me a look, and as soon as we couldn't hear Natalya anymore, he said "Well, that has to be one of the ten weirdest things I've ever seen."

"_Big brother knew all the time_." I thought, hiding my smirk behind my naturally stoic face.

Another lot of skiers flooded in then- the secondary group, some grunting with defeat, others smiling with adrenaline, a few congratulating us on 'Yet another amazing match from Norway's best young skiers!' The two of us decided that we should finally get changed back to our normal clothes (after all, even though we had taken the coats off, there was still another layer of damp underclothing).

Eventually, I got back into my button-up tartan shirt (red with blue and white diagonal lines), loose trousers (after having the clingy material of the ski suit on, I needed them), and some black shoes I used to wear at posh parties before we stopped going anymore. Clipping my cross hair pin in place, I nodded to Emil, telling him I'd wait for outside, and exited the changing rooms.

"Lukas, you're amazing! You've got to teach me how to ski like that!" Tino quickly ran up to me, brown eyes filled with excitement as he near enough squashed me as he enveloped me into a large hug.

I smiled slightly. "It's called practise. Spending all my free time on the snow didn't _not _do anything."

"But you have to have techniques for you and Emil to get so far ahead from anyone else!"

"Monday. School's probably snowed in, I doubt there won't be anything going on at all in town since the schools on the top of a hill and there was a 95% chance that would close."

"Ooh, thanks Lukas, I owe you one! Also, can you help me with our Norwegian homework too?" The small smile on his face graced even further up his face, almost splitting his jaw from the rest of his face.

"Don't push it." I said, just as Emil came out, kicking some snow off the end of his shoes.

"But Norwegian's really hard! It's not my fault that I was born in Finland!" Tino whined, his smile being replaced with a small pout.

"You still don't get sarcasm. I was joking, anyway, you know the drill."

"What drill?" Emil asked as he finally caught up with the conversation.

"What drill?" I replied. "I never mentioned a drill." This resulted in Tino laughing slightly. Being an only child and seeing a sibling argument probably is funny to him.

"Fuck you, Lukas."

"Don't be in a bad mood just because big brother beat you~" I started. "Or is this because of what Natalya said?"

"Wait, who's-"

Emil scoffed. "I'd rather have a handful of decent grades than girls trying to get in my pants."

"Ah! Sorry, got to go, Berwald wants me! See you around!" Both Emil and I knew Tino was a bad- no, _terrible_ liar. All three of us had seen the Swede leave five minutes ago in his car, some Swedish thing his dad got him for his birthday.

"Come on, we all know you're just sulking because big brother beat you. Just say the two B words and I'll stop annoying you~"

"I am not saying the two B words! I'm SixTEEN last time I checked."

"Big Brother~"

"Fuck you."

"Big Brother~" I started swinging my hands around for emphasis. He would say it and I would make him say it.

"Fuck you." He decided to swing a middle finger around just to make himself look smart.

"Big. Brother."

"Fuck. You."

I quickly recoiled as he sent a sharp slap at my face, hissing as my already cold skin came into contact with his numb hand.

"Emil, what did I say to you about slapping your brother?" Father had decided that moment to walk up. Unlucky Emil; he may seem calm and caring for our upbringing now, but he silently ticked until someone trod on his 'bomb'. We had both stepped into the 'DANGER. Active Bombs in this area' zone.

"Not to do it." His eyes shot me a look. 'You got lucky'.

"Whatever. Anyway, I've got the boxes, I need you to pack your stuff into them." So he missed our race to get boxes was his excuse…Wait, what?

"Why?" Usually if he dragged us somewhere, he used the plastic bag in the suitcase trick.

"Norway said Denmark would pay me a lot more." 'Norway' was his unknown boss, not even father knew his name.

"Do you mean a man called Denmark or the actual country Denmark?" _Please say the first one…_

"He's found us a nice place just outside of Copenhagen for us to stay in until we get enough to buy an actual place out there."

Dammit.

"So, how long have we got until the move?" Emil asked, playing the peacekeeper. He knew I hated our father with all my guts. Emil's arguments were just child's play, this was the real thing.

"Monday. So, as soon as we get home, I need all your things boxed by tomorrow night at the latest."

* * *

"_As we start hitting altitude, please fasten your seatbelts. The members of the crew on board this plane hope you enjoyed your flight to Copenhagen. Queries can be made to the Air Stewardesses are you make your way out of the plane. Thank you for flying with Danish Airlines, and enjoy your day~"_

I grunted softly as I tightened my own up- I had it on loosely but not tight enough to actually be classed as 'on'. It was the most comfortable position I could get into, especially crammed in between father and Emil.

After two blocked ears and a large drop in altitude, we finally landed in Denmark. I looked out the window, and the first impression made my thoughts look good.

_"It's just a couple of months until you turn 18 Lukas, you can survive that long surely. You'll just have to learn to put up with their _beer drinking, loud, brainless _behaviour or just hide in the apartment. Actually, if I had some decent books that doesn't sound half that bad~"_

"Lukas, are you just going to sit there daydreaming or get off this stupid, stuffy plane?" I realised I had zoned out, father's arms folded and Emil blocked in because of me. He didn't look half as grumpy- though he didn't say it, he didn't want to move about 65% as much as me, and that is still quite a lot. He had already moved from Iceland when his mother rejected him when he was three, moving to yet another country must be pretty annoying. Anyway, if there was a return flight, I wouldn't mind just sitting here and relaxing~ Life's a bitch, so I reluctantly got off and took in the Danish air. Surprised I starting coughing? Neither am I.

The bus going from the plane to the actual airport was full of happy chatting people- mostly loud blonde children and men who couldn't wait until they could get their hands on the beer stereotypical Dane's were known Oh so well for drinking as if they were in a desert parched and had found an oasis. From the looks of things, there were people returning home from holiday, actually starting the holiday then, or here for business. We looked like the only one's possibly moving.

"Ohmigod, is that Lukas Bondevik and Emil Steilsson?" _Too tired, leave me alone._

After several signatures and being hugged (squashed) by several pre-teen girls (as well as shooting a look at father. Skiing wasn't just a 'crappy hobby' I did like he said, no-one came, knew his name and hugged him eh?), I finally managed to get away from them and get some of the stupid Danish air so I could actually breathe (and choke in the process).

As our clothes luggage (the rest of it was coming separately, we had only brought what we would have needed if we were staying half a week), came around on the thing that spat the bags out after the people who took them off the plane threw them through the shoot, we dragged it groggily through the 'EU passengers' (Let me teach you a lesson if you didn't know this: We aren't members of the EU but Switzerland and Norway and the other European Non-EU members are allowed through the EU passengers part. Don't ask me why) and finally managed to get out of the crappy airport and actually got somewhere.

Bye, Norway. I will see you again the _moment_ I hit eighteen.

* * *

**3 DAYS LATER- 22nd FEBRUARY**

I sprawled myself out on my back, my shirt sliding up slightly as I had my head down in a book on Norwegian tales. Thank the Norse Gods I managed to slide in three decent books in what I had of the suitcase, otherwise my biathlon rifle would have made a good use. I was actually sad enough to put one of those countdown clocks on my phone until I hit eighteen so I knew exactly long before I could get out of this shithole and back into the country I called home. It was too warm anyway here, it was what Denmark classed as 'cold for this time of the year', and I was in shorts and shirt. Yes, I know the countries weren't far apart, but since I was out on the snow most of the time, I classed a comfortable temperature a lot cooler than most other Norwegians.

Father hadn't been to the apartment since he dumped his stuff, probably gone to a hotel and stayed there while he met 'Denmark'. Or 'Denmark' got too drunk on beer and tried getting into father's pants. Either was possible. Emil was conceived by a one-night stand, so I don't trust him when sex is concerned. He also left my mother when she was pregnant with me, and then as soon as I didn't have to depend on her, he took me off of her. Yet another two of the hundreds of thousands of reasons hearing his name makes me want to spit.

Thinking about Emil, he was getting stranger more recently, even before we moved to Denmark. One of the only things he got off his mother was this little Puffin toy, ironically named 'Mr. Puffin'. He still kept it close to him all the time, even if someone declared he was gay because of it. Though, ever since he hit sixteen, he's gotten obsessed to talking to it like it was a human being. It's got worse as it's gone on as well.

As long as he didn't have some mental disorder, I didn't care. He probably got so antisocial because we both refused to leave the building and because I had spent the whole time reading, Mr. Puffin was probably the only alternative. He had never been that social in Norway anyway.

Another thing I had managed to fit in my bag was my laptop. Most people thought I was more on the technophobe lines more than techno-geek, but it had some uses for me:

Use 1: Seeming as the Internet literally powered the world nowadays, so if I wanted to look up something I had interest in (Skis, Nordic Mythology, A Piece of Homework I wanted to do well in or Exam Preparation…et cetera), then I was probably sat at my desk covered in paper or sat on my bed with it curled in between my stomach and knee's.

Use 2: As I stated in 'Use 1' I used it for research. As well as that, for things such as Skiing and the Mythology, I also went on Forums and the odd Blog. It was much more helpful sometimes talking to people with the same passions who could possibly be future friends.

Use 3: From the looks of things, each use is leading on to the next one. I was also fascinated by Magic. Not that I had admitted it, but I collected Wooden Ornaments, usually of Norwegian Mythological creatures, and for some reason, they somehow came to life. My first one, off my mother, was a Troll, the one I was the closest to. It couldn't talk, but it was a comfort…not that I'm feminine enough to need comfort, I spend most of my day in a freezing climate, I'm tough.

Back on subject, our Computing and Languages teachers got together for us all to get accounts on this Penpal website, and we all were assigned with one or two people somewhere in the world who had a good grasp on a language we were learning. Mine just so happened to be English. We were thirteen or fourteen when this was, so Tino was there but Berwald wasn't. I guess that's how they're so close; Berwald was actually his partner since he was learning Swedish as well as Norwegian (I guess that's why he struggles with Norwegian- technically it's his third language). I was assigned with two people- Arthur Kirkland, a Native Speaker from London, and Vladimir Porcespu, a pretty decent speaker from somewhere in Romania. Though Arthur could be a bit naggy and got really pissed since both our teachers had been teaching us American English instead of 'The Correct English'.

We'd got on pretty well other than that, but when we realised we all had an interest in Magic, I guess that's where it really kicked off. Arthur saw Magical Creatures too, though his were British (or more Specifically English) Mythical Beings, such as Unicorns, Fairies and apparently his closest was 'Flying Mint Bunny'. Vladimir told us from his first message he was a Vampire, but until he showed us his fangs via video and all his 'equipment', we didn't believe him. We were still pretty close now, three or so years later.

Use 4: I could still talk to Berwald and Tino if I wanted to or needed to check how things were back at home. I guess they were my only real friends in Norway, other than my magical creatures. I also had access to the Norwegian News, too. I'm pretty lucky we got free WiFi of Denmark's cousin who worked for something to do with Internet.

Use 5: When I was about fifteen and starting to get fame, Emil recommended making a blog or something to show of my Skiing pictures, awards and, well, my potential. I think he was pretty proud having a half-brother who was worthy of having his own page about. Not that he wanted to get the fame out of me, he was interested in Skiing, but not Obsessed like I was. We ended up joining it between us, naming it 'The Bondevik-Steilsson Brothers'. Original, I know.

I guess there are plenty others I could state but I didn't because five was a decent number to stop at and basically, it was too much effort.

I was Considering the Fourth Use, but I opted for the Third. I hadn't spoken to Vladimir since the day before the 15km, and Arthur for about two weeks. He had three brothers, Allistor, Ian and Dyllan, so he had to fight with them a bit for it. Seeming as they were all over eighteen now though (Alistair was eighteen when we first met), he was probably just busy with College or he'd been on when I hadn't. We spoke via Skype, Facebook or some other Social Network site now. Vladimir usually replied the quickest; he was the least busy and Romania has 1st, 2nd, 4th and 5th place in the Top 5 Places for the World's Fastest Internet (I looked it up and Hong Kong came 3rd).

By the looks of it, they were both on, so as I connected myself to the video message (we had private ones if we just wanted to talk one on one, so I knew they wouldn't mind), I realised I joined mid-conversation..

"-So, that's why I gave her a massive bitch slap right in the face. Oh, hey Lukas, long time no see!"

"That's still an inappropriate way to treat a lady, Vladimir. I hope you apologised to her. Yes, he's right. Has everything been alright, Lukas?"

"She kicked me in the balls and left. Elizabeta is one sassy bitch. At least she didn't get the frying pan out."

"I still don't understand why she has a frying pan as a weapon." Arthur muttered, both of them completely ignoring me since Vlad went back to their original conversation.

About a minute later, Arthur said "Vladimir, you have realised Lukas was here the whole time and we've just ignored him?"

"Oh yeah, sorry Lukas! How's it up in freezing cold Scandinavia?"

"Yes, has something been the matter? I haven't seen you online for over a week and you're usually on at _some_ point every two or three days."

I sighed, before starting "Remember how much I said I hated Denmark?"

"Go on." Arthur ushered.

"You sometimes went on for hours. Have you even been there before? And anyway, wasn't Norway a Danish colony sometime, so you probably have Danish ancestry?"

I ignored Vlad, him making that point made it a whole lot worse. "For the next three months, I'm living here. Roll on May 19th…"

"I'm guessing that's why you haven't been on the last couple of days?" Arthur started, before being cut off by Vlad yet again.

"That's cool! If I didn't have to leave my precious Romania behind, I'd love to live in another country!"

"Yes, it is Arthur. Vlad, I'm living in _Denmark_. It's a complete shithole which is why me and Emil-"

"_Emil and I."_

"Sorry Arthur, Emil and I have hidden ourselves in our apartment."

"Jerk! Mum said you were doing your coursework and you're not! I'm telling her you lied!"

I guess it's kind of bad I always forget about Arthur's little brother, Peter, though near enough everyone else did too, so it wasn't just me. I didn't know much about his backstory, but apparently he was adopted from this family who were temporarily staying in England before they moved to Sweden, which is where he was born. He was twelve, and Arthur hated him _almost _as much as I hated my father.

"_Actually_, brat, I _was _doing my coursework. We're currently doing Dracula for Literature and since it's from Romania, me and Vlad were talking about it. And before you ask why Lukas is on, he's just moved countries so I'm checking whether he's alright!"

"But it's fun getting you into trouble since Allistor's left and I just got stuck with you, jerk."

"Shut it brat."

"Jerk."

"Brat."

"Big Jerky Jerk Jerk!" Peter just walked out of the room, slamming the door and by the sounds of it, probably getting a piece of paper and writing on it before sticking it on the door. He'd done it most of the times they had argued, and trust me, this was a daily routine in the Kirkland household, hourly before Allistor left or when Ian(who was only a half-brother when the other three were full brothers)'s half-brother Patrick came to stay. I'd heard him and Allistor get pissed to the hills downstairs while Arthur locked himself in his room once. Let's just say, since Ian was usually the 2nd quietest, you would think he'd been swapped by his opposite twin, or as some people said, 2P.

Arthur cursed under his breath before turning back to the camera smiling.

"_Dracula _takes the piss of us _real _Vampires! Why would I tell you about a book filled with lies?"

"I've finished my coursework in a free period but Mother thinks I have all my free time's worth of it, so it was just an excuse. Trust me, Allistor near enough got married to the wooden spoon-"

"Tell your 'Mother' she needs to get into the 21st Century. You know- The one where you can sue your parents for tapping your butt when you're naughty?"

"That'll give me the wooden spoon." Arthur sighed.

"Call that Childline thing you made that poster about like four years ago."

"Wait, you can remember a poster I made four years ago?"

"I'm a Vampire, it feels like four weeks more than four years."

"How old are you Vlad?" I asked.

He tapped his nose. "Me to know, you to find out when I still look young and beautiful and you'll be all wrinkly having wheelchair races~"

"At least if we are wrinkly you won't try and suck our blood out." Arthur said.

"You never know…I was hungry once so I picked on one of those old ladies that feed bread to pigeons~"

"Vladimir that's horrible!"

"But I was hungry!" He whined. "If you were a Vampire you'd realise."

"Wouldn't a criminal or a paedophile or something have been better? As well as filling your hunger needs, you're keeping criminals off the streets." I asked.

"They're probably taken drugs or something so they taste horrible." To emphasise, he stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"So the old lady who could have had anything over her lifetime tastes better than a criminal?" Arthur rolled his eyes.

"If you want to find out yourself, I can turn you and you can see how you like it~"

"Thanks for the offer, but I don't think my mother would-"

"Would she get the wooden spoon out? Aaw, it poor little Arthur scared of a piece of wood that should be in a metal bowl instead of his bummy bum?"

"Jerk just got told!"

"Peter, at least knock before you come in, brat!"

"I used to share this room so some of my stuff is still in here!"

"Here, take my dictionary and look up 'Personal Space'."

"Dictionaries only give a definition for one word, not two jerk. I thought you were supposed to be smart."

"So there is a brain in between those ears of yours! Who'd have thought it?"

"Leave me alone, jerk."

"You're in my room, so you leave, brat."

"Fine, I will!" He shouted, slamming the door and leaving again.

"Thank Gott Emil just leaves me alone." I muttered.

"You're lucky."

"Um, hey guys, I have to get going somewhere!~ It's almost night-time in Romania. See you both soon!" Vlad said, his screen turning off almost immediately afterwards.

"Um, Sorry, Lukas, but my mother's just called me down as well. See you soon and I hope Denmark gets better the more you get used to it. Goodbye!"

"Hhmph, yeah right." I muttered, before checking one last website for something, shutting down my laptop and walking in Emil's room. The door was wide open, so there was no reason he could shout at me for walking in without knocking.

"Hei, lillebror."

"What do you want?"

"Big brother's being kind and telling you he's going out."

"I don't care- Wait, I thought it was YOUR idea to keep up locked in here."

"I know, but I've managed to find somewhere I can go skiing, and if it means learning some of the stupid language and interacting with some of the stupid people, then I'm willing to do it."

"I heard father mention something about coming back today-"

"He hasn't been here when we're home so I won't be here when he's home. An eye for an eye really."

"Lukas, he's going to get really mad."

"You're only saying that because I stand up to him and you don't."

"It's because A) I actually _think _of the long term problems it'll cause, and B) I still have a while before I'm eighteen."

"Didn't I promise you I'd take you back to-"

"Father won't let you."

"If he actually paid attention to us then maybe I'd agree with him. But he doesn't so…I'll be going. Ha det!"

As Lukas walked off to find his things, he probably didn't hear Emil's murmuring of "He is going to get himself killed." before "Wait five minutes, I'll come with you!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for taking so long. I was researching Denmark before I got into too much detail in the story that was completely wrong. I'm trying to get this as accurate as possible. If I get anything wrong about Danish culture, please tell me. I now have a Pen Pal from a Village 12km from Copenhagen, so this shouldn't be too bad if it is.**

**Also, I made a mistake last Chapter. I said Lukas' birthday was three months today on the 19****th**** of February. I meant the seventeenth.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia or its Characters. Hetalia, Norway, Iceland, Finland, Sweden, England and Romania are copyrighted to Hidekaz Himaruya. Plotline, Lukas and Emil's Father and Instructor, 'Norway' and 'Denmark' are owned by me. Norway and Denmark (The Countries) are owned by the people. **

**Note: You may need Google Translate for the later part of this Chapter due to the fact Lukas starts speaking Norwegian.**

* * *

**22****nd**** FEBRUARY- CONTINUED.**

"I have to say for Denmark this isn't as bad as I'd have thought~"

I was right, it was good because there _was _a slope, and it was pretty good at that. Denmark is a pretty flat country, so I guess where we were wasn't such a bad area. But that doesn't mean I was complimenting Shit-mark. Apart from this, it was a pretty crap country.

At least the woman at the Information Centre came from Norway so she could speak Norwegian. When I asked her why she moved from a decent country to such a shithole she just laughed, which was pretty embarrassing.

Emil's been really quiet since the two of us left the apartment. We walked since it was pretty warm for the season and it wasn't too far, and the only time he'd spoken was when I asked him a question. And feeling ignored by your brother when you want to see if he's alright can be quite upsetting…and annoying as well.

Since it was our first time here we had both gotten a map to have a look at. It wasn't as good as Norway, but it'd do for three months- well less than three months now. Just 86 days left in the Danish craphole. As long as they hurried up I think I'd be alright.

But one thing that confused me was what the woman at the Information Centre said.

"Oh, I guess I'll warn you since you're new to the area. Whatever you do, don't go in the woods. You can go on the courses _through _them, but don't go anywhere near the tree's or anything. You'll seriously regret it. Other than that, have fun~"

Probably just someone tried to chop the tree's down and they don't want anyone getting hit. People around the World are stupid, they probably just got together for a meeting here.

"Since we usually split up, I'm going this way." Emil said, pointing to a route the exact opposite direction I was going.

We never split up, just went the same route but with a couple of minutes leeway. Big Brother always knows when something's wrong, this is just the icing on the cake.

"Fine, but either yell if I'm close enough or call me if you need me."

Emil rolled his eyes "I'm old enough to get myself out of trouble."

"You were chased by a moose last week and your face was a picture."

"S-Shut up, that wasn't meant to happen!"

"Oh really?"

"Really.

"_OK, I believe you."_

"Stop with the sarcasm!" Emil said, his eyebrows furrowed, before he turned around to where he had planned to go, making sure he could get as much snow as he could to cover me. It wasn't effective at all so it was just a waste of effort.

"Bye, lillebror!"

Emil stopped. "Fjandinn hirði þig, þú pirrandi eldri bróður."

"Don't swear at me, and you just called me Big Brother, even if it wasn't in the language I wanted~"

"Ríða sakir." He cussed, before physically leaving.

I smiled lightly to myself before going my own way. If only I had recorded it with my phone and played it in his sleep repeatedly so it would be the only thing he _would _say.

So, these are the things that had happened in the last week:

1) I had one another Skiing Competition

2) I had moved to Denmark

3) My thoughts on Denmark hadn't changed bar that there was a Skiing Mountain near where I lived.

4) Emil had called me Big Brother

5) My phone had just rung.

Wait…

I stopped myself, just pulling to the side since I didn't really want to be banned from the only Skiing Mountain in this part of Denmark, or possibly all of Denmark. I had noticed quickly enough, so I had managed to read the contact and pick up about a second before it would have gone off.

"Emil, I know we're somewhere new but-"

"Lukas, I slipped and I've twisted my ankle really badly and can't move."

"You've been only going for five minutes in another Country for the first time and have never injured yourself in Norway bar when you were just learning?"

"I know, but you _did _say, and I quote 'either yell if I'm close enough or call me if you need me', and since we went opposite directions, I called you."

"Yes, but guess who replied 'I'm old enough to get myself out of trouble'?"

"Please, just get yourself over here. I had to take my shoe and sock off my foot and it's starting to go blue."

"I'm coming, I'm coming." I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Alright, I started skiing once you told me what the matter was and I've just started on the route you've taken. I'm at a fork point, which direction did you take?"

"Left, if you're at the one where the left route starts going uphill."

"Ja, that's where I am. How far up that route are you?"

"Urrrr, once you get fully up that hill, which isn't that far, you start to go around a cliff. Round that cliff you go back downhill and then I'm a little way from where it goes fully downhill."

"You were going fast for five minutes."

"…We've been here for 45 minutes. Check your phone."

"How can I check my phone when you're calling me?" I said sarcastically.

"Just- urgh. Get here now."

"I'm _coming_." I said, as I started going downhill like he had said to.

Eventually I made it. And guess what? He still just treated me like dirt.

"You took long enough."

"A 'Thank You Big Brother' would have done nicely."

By the looks of it, he went completely off course and slipped into a ditch on the side. Silly lillebror. At least he hadn't gone into the forest, and his arms were literally just outside of it.

"Lillebror, sit up."

"I can't. My arms have gone numb."

"I thought you took your shoe and sock off, not your jacket."

"I took my jacket to cover my foot and my other layers didn't keep me warm."

"Fine, Big Brother will get you up then. I'll grab your arms and don't even think about falling back over."

"I won't! Does it look like I'm enjoying lying down in snow?"

"You look like you're enjoying it as much as when that moose tried to eat your jacket."

"Shut up about that goddamn moose!"

I chuckled lightly to myself when I saw Emil's face burn with embarrassment, half from lying down here for at least the fifteen minutes it took me to get here (either he called quite a while after injuring himself or he was going very slowly) and half from that moose. I needed to find someone who used Photoshop to get a picture of him with the Moose next to him, and then put it up everywhere. Then send it to Tino and Berwald so they can spread it around at our old school too.

I walked around to grab his arms, and then-

SNAP!

No, I hadn't trod on a twig. I think this piece of snow was cursed by the devil, as I think I had just broken my own ankle badly.

"What have you just done?" Emil said, rolling over from his back to his stomach so he could have a better look.

I had somehow managed to stand on just one leg for a time period, but my leg gave in and I narrowly dodged Emil when I slipped down.

"Damn Lukas, what the hell have you just done?"

"M-Min ankel…"

"So you come to help me with _my _ankle, and then injure _yours?_"

"Ja, men det er ikke bare ankelen som gjør vondt ... hele kroppen min føles som om jeg ble knust av en lastebil..."

"Look, since my ankle doesn't look as bad as yours, I'll try and find help. Stay here." Emil said, before trying to get up and using his Ski to support the weight on his bad ankle.

"Min gud. Hvordan i helvete er jeg selv bevisst?" I whispered. A from the looks of it, I was going to become unconscious.

* * *

_Sometimes telling the unknowing is the best way to act. However, telling the unknowing can be the worst way to act too. _

_It may be difficult, but secrets can't be kept forever. Someone tells another person and then another…until everyone knows._

_Even a Child's knowing can be dangerous…they are perceived as stupid yet they can remember things most adults can't. _

_And these children can remember throughout the rest of their youth, into adulthood, where they too learn whether the secret is worth keeping or not._

**TO BE CONTINUED.**


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